2 days ago...

Jesus sat in the alley with a length of 2x4, a saw, some gold paint and a Lee Newman patented Felt tipped Marking pen. Well it looked like Jesus, he had long ratty brown hair, a full beard and wore dirty robes. Jesus was definitely down on his luck. Unseen by anyone, Jesus cut a half inch off the end of the length of 2x4, painted it gold, and left it to dry. He cackled to himself, almost insanely. When he had the full length cut and painted, he took his felt tipped pen and wrote on each golden tablet:

Ticket to Heaven

 Satisfied with his work, Jesus stood up and lurched off down the alley.

Last night...

Chris lurched out of the club and staggered towards the alley. God he needed a piss. At the moment things were grand, but in less than 24 hours he'd curse the day he ever let Scale talk him into trying shrooms. The alley was dark, darker than Curtis's soul with the shadow of Barry's head falling across it. Feeling his way along the wall, Chris stopped and decided he was far enough down to relieve the growing pressure on his bladder. Were it not for the loud expletive that came from the pile of rags, it would be hard to believe that any human being could exist in that state, but sure enough, a grime-blackened face emerged from the growing stench of alcohol and body odor. Caught completely off guard, Chris let out a short shocked 'Jesus' and stumbled backwards. The man Simply answered, 'Yes my Child'.

Chris rubbed his eyes and stared at the man, an unearthly glow surrounding his head like an angelic halo, or the street light from the end of the alley silhouetted behind the man and shining through the steam leaking from the clubs heating vent.

"How the fuck are you jabroni?"

"You already said, I'm jesus."

"Fuck off, Jesus is dead."

"I am risen my child, crucified on Friday, risen like a nice Muffuletta on Sunday, revealed to my followers, and ascended to the kingdom of my father after 40 days."

"40 days? Why 40 days? What do you want? Why are you here?" Chris's head raced, well as much as it could race whilst off his face on psychoactive substances. The man laughed, his putrid breath almost as bad as morty's singing.

"So many questions. Well I had things to do. I wanted to sow my oats, and get a few drinks with my friends, and I wanted to get so off my face on coke that I couldn't feel the wounds in my hands or feet or the hole in my side. Have you ever been stabbed by a spear? As for why I'm here, its for you Don Vaughn. To save your immortal soul, the end of days is coming. Listen closely and do exactly as I say. Take these golden tickets to heaven, go forth and sell them to save God's faithful." The man handed Chris a sack full of Golden Tickets. Chris knew they were golden tickets to heaven instantly because, well they were gold, and they had Ticket to Heaven written on them.

"The faithful will recognize you and buy them, allowing them entry to the kingdom of my father on judgement day. You though, you have more work. Take all the money you make from the sale of the tickets, and return to this alley 2 days hence. Here you will find my most trusted disciple, Stevie. Stevie is an Alien, and when you give him all the money, he will take you and one other person to his planet far away. On his flying saucer and there the truth will be revealed. You see Stevie's planet is made entirely of Crack Cocaine, you can smoke all the crack cocaine there you want… totally free."

"Ok Jesus!" Chris staggered blindly from the alley and set off to do the Lord's bidding.

Today, Easter Sunday...

Chris stood on the street corner, selling golden tickets, still wearing the same suit from the previous night. It was slow work, and although the ticket's were only $99.99, Chris figured that there weren't many of the chosen ready to go to heaven, he'd only sold half the tickets, and he had just over half a day to collect the rest of the money and get back to the Alley out the back of Batiatus's club.

"Hey man, want to buy a golden ticket to heaven? Jesus is coming, the end of the world is Nigh!"

Hearing some chatter about the latest good on the market being some soft of golden ticket to heaven Red-Cloud knew that he had to investigate and get in on the matter before all the profits were swooped up by someone else. He talked to everyone he knew that day and didn't really learn all that much. Only that some Chris_Vaughn character was selling them, he seen a few passerbys carrying their tickets so he knew what they looked like. One extremely drunk old lady was walking down a back alley coming from one of the hidden bars and dropped her ticket so Red-Cloud pocketed it and took off back to his HQ.

He informed those who were in the HQ about what was going on and what this flashy little piece of paper was worth and how popular it was and came up with the bright idea to copy it.

"I mean what the fuck could go wrong guys?!"

Everyone looked at each other and shrugged.

"Looks like money in our pockets to me a couple mentioned."

"I suppose it's decided then, let's copy this shit and sell the fuck out of it! Chris is selling his for $99.99 so lets price ours at $85 and tell everyone that they are end of the world party tickets. Let everyone know that their will be liquor on the house and we are bringing in the New Orleans Rhythm Kings band as well. Since it's the end of the world and all we actually purchased the band for eternity so we have that going for us too! Okay, I'll get these down to the copier and he will have us a few thousand by tomorrow. Just remember to stay out of Chris's territory with these, he sees you with them and I can nearly guarantee you will get shaken down and lose it all."

Red-Cloud turns and leaves the HQ to head to the copier to start his plan.